Chapter 64…………………………
The Child Who Resembled a Rose
Early in the morning, Akkia returned from somewhere and immediately told them to pack.
[Where are we going?]
[To see the Duke of Belarus before heading back. There are still matters I need to resolve.]
Lea thought they would go straight to the capital, but apparently Akkia intended to visit the Duke of Belarus first.
When their carriage finally entered the Belarus estate, the butler, Barton, was already waiting to receive them.
He bowed deeply as the two stepped out.
“Welcome, Your Grace. The Duke of Belarus awaits you inside. Eddie, guide His Grace.”
“Yes, Your Grace, please this way.”
The servant stepped forward to lead Akkia. But before entering, Akkia turned back to Lea.
“You rest in your room. I need to speak privately with the Duke.”
“Yes, I will.”
As soon as Akkia disappeared inside, Barton approached Lea.
“It must have been a hard journey. Allow me to guide you to your room. Please, follow me.”
“Oh—thank you.”
She had expected Barton to escort the Duke himself, not her. For the butler to hand that duty to a servant while personally guiding a mere apothecary felt strange.
What’s this about?
From the start, Barton had been unusually kind to her, a commoner. Lea followed him into the mansion with a puzzled look.
Then she remembered—the dress she had borrowed from him. Her own had been ruined when the mine collapsed.
“Sir Butler, I have something to tell you…”
Her timid voice made Barton stop mid-step.
“Is there a problem?”
His expression was filled with genuine concern, making Lea hesitate to confess that she had ruined the fine dress.
It looked so expensive…
Before leaving for the mine, Barton had lent her a few dresses more suited for movement. Though their colors were a bit faded, every fabric and ornament spoke of noble quality.
With a downcast face, Lea pulled the ruined dress from her bag. It was so tattered its original shape was hardly recognizable.
“I’m sorry. The dress you lent me got ruined. It must have been valuable, and I don’t know how to apologize properly. Of course, I’ll repay—”
“Haha, no need. It’s fine.”
“What? Really?”
Lea’s eyes went wide at his hearty laugh.
She had fully intended to compensate him, but the butler seemed completely unconcerned. He even smiled warmly, eyes crinkling.
“Yes. It’s only an old dress. Please don’t trouble yourself.”
His casual dismissal left Lea more bewildered. The style of the dress was clearly something a noble lady would wear—likely one worn by a former lady of the Belarus household.
Is he truly fine with this?
As she wondered, Barton’s gaze lingered on her, clutching the ruined garment. His eyes brimmed with longing, making her blink in surprise.
After staring for a long moment, he murmured softly:
“More importantly… it suited you very well.”
“…Pardon?”
“That dress.”
Lea glanced down at herself. Today she wore a simple deep-olive gown, which did indeed match her red hair nicely.
“Thank you. But I suppose the original owner must have had a similar build to mine. It fits me as if it were tailored.”
Most noble gowns were made to measure. Especially those with fitted waists—ill-fitting sizes always looked awkward.
This fits me perfectly. Almost as if it were made for me.
She had thought it odd since the first time she borrowed clothes here. Barton’s expression turned strange at her words, and he whispered:
“Yes… it could only be so.”
But Lea didn’t catch his murmur.
❀ ❀ ❀
When Akkia entered the office, the Duke of Belarus rose to greet him.
“Long time no see, Duke of Heidern.”
Though smiling warmly, his eyes glimmered sharply.
So the Duke of Heidern has returned alive… and changed.
Though this was the far northern region, the Duke of Belarus had already heard rumors of Akkia.
As if searching for answers in those rumors, his shrewd eyes swept over him.
“You seem healthy yourself, Duke of Belarus.”
The deep voice made Dmitri’s eyes widen.
The Duke of Heidern had lost his voice more than ten years ago. Yet now, the unfamiliar voice carried such weight that it pressed down on him.
“So the rumors were true—you really did recover.”
Hiding his thoughts, Dmitri smiled meaninglessly and gestured to a seat.
“Sit. Did you resolve the mine issue? To be frank, I told His Majesty you needn’t come all the way here.”
Once seated, a steaming teacup was set before Akkia. Dmitri spoke as if the collapse were a trivial matter.
“Cave-ins happen often in salt mines. For a Duke of the Empire to come personally over such a thing—if other nations heard, they’d laugh, don’t you think?”
He spoke as though the disaster had nothing to do with him, despite the fact it was his own territory, his own principal mine, and lives had been lost.
Unbelievable. One would think he were lord of some other land.
Akkia’s brow twitched. He set his cup back down without drinking.
“There’s corruption in Bialytskal. Surely you weren’t unaware. Why have you done nothing about it?”
At the blunt question, Dmitri calmly sipped his tea. His deep green eyes, like a still ocean, flashed dangerously when they met Akkia’s.
Outwardly composed, but inside a storm swirled. A young duke, not yet thirty, dared to interrogate him.
Dmitri studied Akkia slowly. The golden hair recalled emperors past, and the crimson eyes—like blood—were even more unsettling.
Those fierce eyes were the spitting image of the late Emperor Phillips III.
Dmitri smirked.
So—a tiger’s cub is still a tiger.
Of course he had long known of Bialytskal’s corruption.
Dmitri von Lialutein Belarus.
Once called the “Iron Duke.” Even Emperor Phillips himself had been cautious with him.
Some said time had weakened him. But that was false. He was still head of a powerful house, wielding great influence.
He had only withdrawn after the death of his only daughter, Ariel.
“There’s a hot spring beneath the salt mine. Were you aware?”
“…A hot spring?”
His brow twitched in surprise. He had expected banal accusations, not this.
The existence of hot spring water was news to him. Akkia continued.
“Send experts immediately to Bialytskal. The hot spring could be a blessing to that barren land.”
The salty soil there made farming near impossible. The people had long relied on the mine, but ever since sea salt began being harvested in the south ten years ago, the mine’s value had dropped.
The people had suffered, but no solution had been offered.
If what he says is true…
Hot spring tourism could indeed become Bialytskal’s salvation.
But—
“I appreciate the advice, but I’ve no such intentions.”
His reply was weary, resigned.
“…What?”
Akkia frowned at the unexpected answer.
“As I said. I won’t change Bialytskal.”
Had he been younger, or had his daughter lived, he might have seized on such an opportunity. But now? What use were hot springs or enterprises?
He only wished to pass his remaining years quietly. That was why he had taken no heir.
But Akkia, unable to understand, pressed:
“But Duke—what of your people?”
“If that is all you have to say, then leave. At my age, I require my afternoon nap.”
He dismissed Akkia before he could finish, using sleep as his excuse.
❀ ❀ ❀
Late that night, under the slanting moonlight, Dmitri sat in the garden.
You always loved this garden.
In his hand, a rose gleamed crimson in the moonlight. Its bloody color brought his daughter to mind.
Ariel.
She had suited roses so well. For her debutante birthday, he had gifted her this very rose garden.
The intoxicating fragrance that once filled the estate each May was still vivid in memory.
But now, with its mistress gone, the empty garden only deepened his grief.
He had cut down many rose bushes since then. Few remained.
“Ariel…”
When I abandoned Bialytskal, what did you think?
The thought of her tormented him. His grip tightened on the rose. The thorns pierced deep, but he felt no pain. Nothing in this world hurt more than losing her.
Blood dripped down his hand as he bowed his head.
Do you still resent me, even there?
Her final look at him had been one of blame—his beloved daughter’s eyes, condemning him for sending her to her death.
—Step, step.
Footsteps approached. Light ones—likely a young woman, barely grown.
“Are you alright?”
A gentle voice followed.
“You’re bleeding, from the thorns.”
Who dares enter here uninvited?
He raised his head, ready to scold. But at the edge of his sight was a deep-green dress.
It was the very style his daughter had loved. His head jerked up.
“May I tend your wound?”
And then he saw her—Lea.
He sprang to his feet.
“…You…”
His eyes wavered uncontrollably. The composed, iron-hearted man was gone.
“Ariel…?”
The name slipped trembling from his lips, wrapping around Lea’s ears.
